CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

''Lockhart? Isn't he the one who wrote all those Godawful biographies?''

Neville groaned. ''Tell me you haven't read any of those.''

''No. I flipped through a couple of them in the library. I gave up when he described Hermione Weasley as having 'moist chocolate-brown orbs'. What does that even mean?''

Across the table from us Rubeus shook his shaggy head. ''Y' ask me, they never should'a let him out o' th' hospital.''

''Is this the same guy who managed to Obliviate himself during the basilisk affair?''

There was a chorus of resigned 'Yes'es from the others at the table. Neville, Idris, and myself had one side of the table, Rubeus most of the rest. No one had rented the private room for the evening, so Hannah had exiled her husband and his colleagues from the main floor of the Leaky Cauldron. The room was painted in a warm yellow with black trim.

''He writes an adventure series as well. My children love it. Supposedly historical.'' Idris nodded at Neville. ''Set during your school years - ''

Neville groaned again. ''I've seen it. I've read it. It's awful. It's worse than awful.''

''Harry likes it,'' said Rubeus. ''He thinks it's funny.''

''I'll bite. What is this series?''

''Supposedly historical, like I said. Set in Harry Potter's schoolboy days, but written from the point of view of another student. A blonde, devastatingly handsome young lad - ''

''Looks just like the author, only younger?''

Idris nodded. ''And is smart, and popular, and best friends with Harry and Ron and Hermione...''

''Oh God. Lockhart writes fanfic. Who does he ship?''

The Halfblood Idris laughed so hard I thought he'd spill his drink. Rubeus and Neville just stared at us. ''Muggle joke,'' I said. ''It would take too long to explain, and by the time I did it wouldn't be funny. How's the actual history in the books?''

''Not awful,'' Neville admitted. ''Actually, good enough that when I see students reading them in the Gryffindor common room I look the other way.''

''Of course you do. He makes you out to be a knight in shining armour,'' said Idris. ''I remember your First Year...''

''Oh no.'' Neville turned a bit pink.

Idris leaned forward. ''Oh yes. The girls used to talk about you in the Slytherin common room...''

''Oh, please no.'' The pink spread towards his ears.

''Cutest First Year ever. That's what Deborah Greengrass said.''

''... Who?''

''You remember her, even if you don't remember her name. Seventh Year girl, my age.'' Idris put down his pint. He made a gesture describing a woman who would have problems walking through doors.

''Oh, her.'' Neville went bright red.

Rubeus laughed and reached across the table to pat Neville on the arm. ''What'd I tell yeh, boy? Yeh worried too much.''

''So Geoffrey, speaking of... '' Idris made the gesture again.

''They're real, they're fantastic, and you'll never see them.''

''She was a couple of years ahead of me,'' said Idris. ''I never did pay her much attention. Always wore baggy robes, slouched all the time. That, and everyone knew Kenrich liked her. No point in trying, really.''

''What was he, crazy-jealous?''

''Kenrich? No no. A bit of a temper maybe. But he was from an old Pureblood family, rich, clever, good-looking...''

I finished off my pint. ''Oh boy. No pressure.''

''Speaking of Purebloods,'' said Neville. ''What was that between you and Belladonna Black?''

''Nothing. The woman is insane. I mean it. One minute she's asking about my family tree, the next she's trying to suck the enamel off my teeth.'' I looked into my empty mug. ''I need another drink. I can still taste her tongue.''

''My round,'' said Rubeus.

''Listen, if she does it again I'm pressing charges. I told her and Galilea that. She's mental.''

''Th' Blacks must be gettin' desperate if she's willin' to try for a Halfblood Squib. No offence.''

''None taken. You're probably right, they're running out of cousins who are willing to get within ten feet of them.'' I shuddered. ''Were they always this creepy?''

''Yes.'' From all three of them.

''Sirius was all right,'' said Neville.

''Sirius was not all right.'' Rubeus said. ''He was never a bad sort - Well, mostly not. But he was not all right.''

''Damn. All right, I'll be back in a minute. I need to use the bathroom. Loo. Whatever.''

This Friday the Cauldron was packed. On my way through the crowded main area of the Cauldron I thought I saw a familiar face. I didn't look too closely, since I really did need the loo.

Loo. Damn, that's a ridiculous word.

The problem with a Wizarding pub loo is that they figure anyone old enough to be in the pub is old enough to cast basic Cleaning Charms. Neville had told me that soap and water actually work better than the really simple Charms, but it's cheaper for the pub to let customers wand themselves clean. Fortunately I'd remembered to pack some hand wipes.

'Loo'. Seriously.

Coming back to the common area I looked again at the booth furthest from the front door. I'd been right the first time. The Cornfoot woman and two friends. She was wearing the same clothes I'd seen her in earlier, on my way to the pub from Diagon Alley. Her friends wore expensive dark robes that looked out of place in the casual crowd at the Leaky Cauldron.

It took a while to get to the bar. Wizards and witches had all sorts of different spells for sending messages, but they still took their turn at the bar and only a prat would use magic to cut ahead in the queue. Eventually I got there and ordered a pint to look like I had a reason. I also told the bartender that Neville needed to talk to Hannah when she had a moment.

Finally I got back to the private room. Everyone there looked pretty subdued. ''What's up?''

Idris spoke up. ''I just told Neville and Hagrid that I'm not taking the Deputy Headmaster position. I'll tell Galilea tomorrow.''

''She's not going to be happy about that.'' That was kind of an obvious thing for me to say.

''No, but if I take the position I'm not going to be happy about it. What about it Neville? You have the experience.''

''I like teaching. I like being Head of Gryffindor. I'd have to give up both to be Headmaster.''

''Binns?'' I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Rubeus snorted. ''Nah. Black.''

That got a laugh. We were still arguing over who'd be worse, the psycho bitch or the senile bigot, when Hannah came in levitating three trays above her head.

''What's so funny?''

''Idris isn't taking the Deputy Headmaster job,'' Neville told her.

''And neither are you. It'd drive you spare.'' Hannah lowered the drinks and food to the table. ''What did you need to see me about?''

''Sorry Hannah,'' I said. ''My bad.''

''Your bad what?''

''Sorry Hannah, mea culpa. I needed to speak with you.'' I explained about Cornfoot and her two friends.

''I don't know who they are but I can find out discreetly.'' Hannah leaned over and kissed Neville quickly. ''I've got to get back to it. Sorry love.'' Hannah left with the trays and our empties floating above her.

''Pickled eggs, Scotch eggs, pork scratchings, crisps, chips, chicken in a basket...'' I looked at the food Rubeus had ordered. ''I can tell you're single.''

''Shut up an' eat.''

There were a couple of drinks in front of me that I didn't order. ''What're those?''

''Those,'' said Neville. ''Are your butterbeers.''

He clunked a pint mug down next to the one I'd ordered at the bar. ''Traditional butterbeer. What you'll get at the Hog's Head. And if you're lucky, they'll leave out the drowned rat.''

''That only happened once,'' said Rubeus.

''They only drowned one rat, or they only left it out of the drink once?'' Neville put a mug of something frothy in front of me. ''Butterbeer soda. What the kids will get if they come in here and try to order a butterbeer.''

I picked it up and tried a sip. ''Uch. Tastes like diabetes.''

''Try this. A butterbeer shot. Butterscotch schnapps and cream soda.''

I downed the butterbeer shot. ''Schnappy, with an aftertaste of schnapps.''

''Before you get too far into it, I should remind you that you're closer to forty than you are to thirty.''

''An' a lot closer to forty than you are t' twenty,'' said Rubeus.

''Meh. Pass the pork scratchings. I need to get the taste of schnapps out of my mouth.''

Idris pushed his empty pint mug away from him. ''That's it for me, I'm afraid. I'm on the wrong side of forty all together, and I've got an early morning tomorrow.''

''Do you need a quick pop home? There's probably an Apparatus downstairs.''

''No, I'll Floo it. How about the rest of you, any plans for tomorrow?''

''Hannah actually has a weekend off. We're going to sleep in. Then there's a thing with the Weasleys on Sunday.''

''Same,'' said Rubeus. ''Got some Fourth Years muckin' out th' stables for detention, but other than that nothin'. Nice an' quiet.''

''A date with Galilea in the afternoon - We're going to the London Zoo, neither of us has been before. In the morning I want to drop in at Ollivanders, see if I can talk to the old guy, Gerry I think is his name. After that it's Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes so I can pick up some supplies. Then I'll drop in at the Oakby Centre, see if I can track down some data on just how many Squibs there really are. The numbers are all over the place. And Neville gave me a lead on a flat I should check out. All in all, a pretty quiet day. ''

Idris said his final goodbyes and headed out. The next few minutes were just me, Rubeus, and Neville, eating and drinking.

I watched Rubeus for a bit, the big mountain of a man capped with a grey peak. He noticed me watching and gave me a questioning look.

''Nothing,'' I said. ''Just remembering my first day in Hogsmeade.''

Neville laughed. ''You should have seen your face. I'm sorry Geoffrey, but the look...''

''Was that before or after you petrified me?''

''Just before. 'Must go now, many people are expecting me'.''

''Glowing stick,'' I said. ''Weirdo in a cloak.''

'''Expected back very soon now'.''

''Weirdo in a cloak. Glowing stick.''

''And the way those women screamed when you ran into the kitchen...''

''Hilarious.''

''Yeah,'' said Rubeus. ''Wish I'd taken a picture when yeh saw me.'' Rubeus looked up and up and up towards the ceiling, pulling an exaggerated expression of shock.

''Still, you're doing all right. New job, new girlfriend, new dau- ''

''Perfume.''

''New perfume? I didn't notice.''

''No. Galilea told me to ask you about her perfume.''

''Oh that.'' Neville leaned back in his chair and smirked. ''Yes, I'm happy with that new scent. It's going to make me a lot of money. George and his wife are working on the marketing, but the compatibility potion is all mine.'' His smirk took on a meaner edge. ''I was utter crap in that class. Nice to know it was him, not me.''

''He wasn't so bad,'' said Rubeus. ''He always said yeh had stones.''

Neville gave Rubeus an are-you-joking look.

''Hey, he was better than Umbridge.'' Said the half-giant.

''If that's our standard, Aragog could have been Headmaster.''

''Hate to interrupt guys, but the potion?''

''Compatibility potion,'' said Neville. ''You can only smell it if you match the traits that were brewed into it. The closer the match, the stronger the smell. And it smells better too.''

Rubeus grinned. ''George wanted t' call th' batch Neville cooked up for th' Headmistress 'She Wears Th' Trousers'.''

''Uh-huh. And what are the traits?''

Neville counted points off on his fingers. ''Likes kids, monogamous, honest, hard-working... I forget the rest, actually. Hermione says we should call it 'Telly Dad'.''

I thought for a few seconds. ''I must be getting old. That's actually kind of flattering.''

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

''So a 'professor' is just a teacher, and a 'master' is a professor. I mean, a professor-professor.''

''I... Think I followed that.'' Neville frowned and leaned forward on the table. ''Look, almost anyone with the right NEWTs can teach. I mean, they can't necessarily teach but they have the requirements to be a professor. A master is a recognized authority in the field.''

''Neville's a Herbology master,'' said Rubeus. ''He did field work. Black's jus' a professor, all she's got are her NEWTs. Lestrange is a Dark Arts master, but she can't teach it. Can't be a professor. Too much time muckin' abou' with the Dark Arts makes yeh...'' Rubeus made cuckoo noises.

''Professor Fairbairn is stable,'' Neville said.

''Yeah. Whatever.''

I thought that over for a minute. After five drinks - No, six - Or was it five? Six. Downing the schnapps in one go had been a mistake. After a few drinks the thought process took a little more time. ''So there are professors, there are masters, and the Chairs do what? Edit journals?''

''That's about right,'' Neville nodded. ''Edit journals. We're not a big community, so Hogwarts and St. Mungo's try to support research. Sometimes students come back for post-NEWT work, use the library and school facilities. We supervise that. I had one last year, I'm chair of Cryptozog - Cryptozoology and Thaumosophic Botany. Creeped me out, that girl. She was a little too fond of the slinking octovines.''

''There's empty Chairs, right? Muggle Studies, History and Archology, Archololgy, Archalogy - ''

''You're cut off,'' said Neville. ''When you can't even say a simple word like Archiogol oh Hell.''

''Muggle Studies, History and Archaeology fuck off, History of Thaumotology...''

Rubeus interrupted me. ''Got plans there, Geoff?''

''Fuck yeah. So what do I need to do to get made Chair?''

''Sleepin' wi' th' Headmistress is a good start.''

''Asshole.''

''Arsehole.''

''I know you are but what am I?''

''Merlin's skid-marks,'' said Neville. ''You two, what are you, First Years?''

I snorted. ''Merlin's skid-marks?''

''The kids rub off on you after awhile. It's your turn next. Just you wait.''

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

''They've got plans for you, Geoffrey. Watch out. I heard them talking in the Gryffindor common room.''

''Yeah. Idris said the same about the Snakepit. That's why I'm going to Weasley's tomorrow. Arm myself.''

''Look at yeh,'' Rubeus laughed. ''Talkin' abou' th' 'Snakepit'. Less'n a month an' yeh fit ri' in.''

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

''Neither of you are Flooing anywhere tonight.''

''I'm allri' t' Floo,'' said Rubeus.

''Oh yeah? Say 'Hogwarts'.''

''Hogwars. Ho'warts. Hogs... Y'still go' tha' mat?''